Ramblings on libraries and life upon the wicked stage

Having reached a place of despondency with Footloose, things managed to get worse before they got better. Part of my attack of the glums was probably caused by general feelings of physical exhaustion, as the mildly stuffy nose turned into an uncomfortable sore throat and a somewhat more than mildly stuffy nose. In order to ensure that breathing was at optimum level for singing, I became quickly identifiable (and quite popular) backstage due to the smell of Olbas Oil. Several others had been ill in the lead-up to the show, and I believe a good proportion of the cast is now feeling the effects as well.

On the Friday night, I experienced one of my most terrifying moments on stage. A few lines in to my solo, “Heaven Help Me”, my mouth continued moving, but not a sound came out. So I sang ‘Someone’s got to … … … … If I don’t who will?’, which made very little sense (for the record, someone’s got to take the high road). It was only a brief moment of nothingness, but it was truly terrifying. My mind raced with the horrifying possibilities – what if my voice had run away and I had to continue mouthing the entire song? Was there any way someone could rescue me, even though I was alone on the stage? Thankfully, a deep breath at the end of the missing line, and things return to normal. I still wanted the earth to open up and swallow me, but had to change from ‘at home’ to ‘at church’ costume ready for the final scene of the act. I don’t know whether it was the nose and throat, some sort of mental affliction or just random fate which conspired to create those few seconds of personal horror, but it certainly galvanised me for the second act – I had to just pretend that act one had not happened and get out there and be the best darned Reverend Moore I could be. Apparently, I found out later, it looked like a problem with my mic rather than with me, though that seems rather unfair to the hardworking sound man.

After the Friday night show, I opted to walk home, giving me a chance to experience some quiet, some fresh air and a chance to have a good long talk with God. I expressed my frustrations and anxieties about the role, I told him about the feelings from life in general that had got tangled up with Footloose, and I tried to listen to Him in response (something I am so very bad at doing).

On Saturday, I was still feeling ill, but I was feeling calmer than I had felt all week. And I started to enjoy the show. I had enjoyed spending time with my fellow cast members and there was much entertaining people-watching to do, but it wasn’t until Saturday that I felt able to let go and enjoy the experience of performing the role rather than fretting and being neurotic about it. It was still hard work – Shaw Moore is a very challenging part – but it became considerably more enjoyable than I had made it earlier in the run. Whether you choose to put this down to God’s influence or to something else, this was most definitely a good thing. It would have been a terrible shame to have been given such a great opportunity to truly act and then not enjoy it at all.

After the show on Saturday, quite a number of people I had never met came up to me and congratulated me on my performance as Reverend Moore, saying that they found it very moving. This was very encouraging, and made me want to cry in a very good way. I still feel I could have done better, but can’t we always do better? However, I definitely found my feet and am sure I am stronger because of the experience.

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I don’t often remember dreams. I’m not sure why this would be. It could be due to my sleep patterns, or a side-effect of my utter lack of a visual memory (I cannot picture anythingin my head), or maybe I just don’t dream as much as other people. Whatever the reason, I very rarely wake up knowing that I’ve had a dream, and it’s very rare indeed that I remember what I was dreaming about. I do remember two different dreams where my house went up in flames, though, and my dream self has killed at least two people I know (so watch out, mwah ha ha!) for some reason. However, I do normally manage an anxiety dream in the days or weeks leading up to a performance, and this is the focus of this flashback. No insights into the strange backstage world of the theatre, I’m afraid. Just into my head!

I’m sure most performers of any kind and at any level have had the usual anxiety dreams – turning up late; forgetting the words, or the steps, or the music; turning up with no clothes on… But that’s kid stuff! My sleeping mind seems to be able to come up with some wonderful variations on this theme. Continue reading →